


Belle, Book, and Candles

by oceanofdarkness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:06:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanofdarkness/pseuds/oceanofdarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle wants to be home for the holidays. Rumplestiltskin has a special gift in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belle, Book, and Candles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sixbluemarbles](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sixbluemarbles).



> This is a Christmas fic for sixbluemarbles, who prompted Candlelight on Christmas Eve.

Belle French lies next to Rumplestiltskin in the cozy bed tucked in the corner of the studio apartment above the library, her head pillowed on his chest and his fingers combing idly through her curls. The only light in the room is the glow from the Christmas tree by the window. A white frosted artificial fir about 4 feet tall, it is lavishly draped with tiny white fairy lights… far more than the small thing actually requires but the effect is lovely. The ornaments are all golden and the branches are strung with a garland made of tiny golden stars. A gold tinsel star is perched at the top. It never fails to make her lover smile when he comes through the door, and it makes her smile each time she glances over at it as she goes about her day. Her first attempt at Christmas decorations seems to be a success.

“Rumple?” she murmurs against his neck.

“Yes, Sweetheart?” 

“Will you stay tonight?”

“If you wish it, Darling, of course.” 

He nuzzles into her hair and tugs her just a fraction closer as she sighs and snuggles into him.

“I’ve been thinking…” she begins, “we spend most of our nights together these days.”

She feels his low chuckle as much as hears it. 

“It does seem to work out that way, yes.”

“Well,” she goes on, “it seems silly to be living apart when we’re not really spending much time away from each other anymore.”

He leans his head back a little and lifts her eyes to his with a knuckle tucked under her chin.

“What are you saying, Belle?”

“I’m saying that I’d like to come home… if you’ll have me.”

“Have you?” The wonder in his eyes nearly takes her breath. “Sweetheart, I’d gladly beg you.”

“There’s no need for anything that dramatic,” she giggles.

He lets his thumb smooth across her cheek, and stares at her for a long moment with a sad little smile.

“I was afraid you’d never want to come back, that you couldn’t think of my house as your home.”

She takes his face in her hands, clear blue eyes locked onto his. “Rumplestiltskin, my true home has always been where you are. I just… I needed something to call my own.”

They’ve talked about this before. It had been a difficult conversation. She’d found it hard to tell him that when he’d refused to let her in, she’d been afraid of what might happen if he sent her away again in this strange new world. She needed a solid footing and hadn’t trusted him to provide it when he refused to trust her. His last words to her in the old world were that his power meant more to him than she did, and though she’d known them to be a lie even then, they had stayed with her for all her years in the queen’s dungeon. As hard as it had been for her to say, it had been harder for him to hear, but he’d understood, and they have made great progress over the past months. He is sharing more of himself with her, trusting her to _keep the monster’s secrets_  he likes to say, and she is getting used to the notion that he doesn’t really have to choose between love and magic in Storybrooke. His curse had forced that choice in their land, but she need not force it in this one. He is behaving himself… most of the time, and recent events have convinced her that magic has it’s place… particularly when a certain imp has had centuries to acquire some very powerful enemies.

“Belle, I’m…” 

She hears the pain in his choked whisper, lays her fingers across his lips. 

“I know… and I also know that’s all in the past. I know what it cost you to let me go… again, and I know that you love me enough to give me what I needed to find my way home. The rest doesn’t matter anymore.”

She brings her mouth close to his, lets her fingers trail away from his lips and along the line of his jaw as she leans in for a soft kiss. The very tip of her nose brushes his as her breath ghosts across his lips. 

“When would you like to move back, Sweetheart?” He plays with a stray curl, twisting it around his finger.

“I thought maybe before Christmas?” She smiles at him and ducks her head before meeting his eyes through thick lashes. “I’ve heard that home is where people should be for the holidays.”

He dips his head down to capture her lips with his and pulls her tight against him.

“So it is.”

===================

Belle is sound asleep, cuddled against his side, but Rumplestiltskin lays awake staring at the ceiling. He wants Belle to come home, of course, but he needs to be sure that it is permanent this time. Losing her again would surely kill him. 

He’s been toying with an idea for her Christmas present but wasn’t sure if he could be brave enough to actually offer it to her. The decision, it seems, has been taken out of his hands. 

There in the glow of Belle’s little golden tree, Rumplestiltskin wraps himself around his love, holds her close, and prays to whatever deity might take an interest in an old monster that he isn’t making a terrible mistake.

=====================

He sits across from her the next morning, staring down into the depths of his teacup.

“Rumple, is something wrong?” she asks finally. He looks up to find her nibbling at her bottom lip. “I don’t have to move back right away. I know it’s awfully sudden…”

Does she honestly believe even for a second that he doesn’t want her to come home? He cuts her off before she can say anything more.

“Belle.” He waits until she meets his gaze, reaching over to take her hand in both of his. “I want you to come home more than anything, Sweetheart. I just need to make sure that it’s really what you want.” She draws in a breath to reassure him, but he holds up a hand before she can speak. “I  _need_  you to be sure, Belle… for both of us, yes?”

She studies him for a long moment and then nods to show that she understands.

“How can I convince you?”

He looks away from her then, studying their hands where they rest atop the small table in her kitchen. His mouth is set in a thin line and he is silent for so long that she starts to fidget in her seat, but she gives him the time he needs.

“I’d like to give you your Christmas gift a little bit early,” he says finally, his voice barely the ghost of a whisper. “You should have it before you decide.”

“And that will help you to be sure?” She’s obviously confused, but willing to do what it takes to set his mind at ease.

“I believe it will, yes.” When he meets her eyes again, his are sad and there is a glint of fear in them, but he gathers himself and offers her a small smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until tonight for an explanation.”

She tilts her head to one side, studying him much as she did back in their land, and he suddenly has a clear image of her perched atop the table in the great hall of his castle. His chest tightens and the smile he’d managed for her falters a bit.

“Rumplestiltskin…”

He shakes his head and stands up, moving around to stand beside her and pull her up into his arms. His mouth comes down over hers, the kiss just a little desperate, and she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer. When they finally break apart, he reaches up to take her wrists and gently brings her arms down, stepping back and bringing her hands to his lips. 

“Tonight, Love.” 

She nods, but says nothing, simply watches him take up his cane and pause at the door to shrug into his coat before slipping out with an awkward nod and a sad smile.

=====================

He comes by the library just before closing. She’s checking all of the cozy little corners to make sure everyone is gone for the evening, turning off lights as she moves through the space, and she finds him on a couch near the circulation desk when she returns to it. She smiles and moves to join him, leaning in for a kiss before settling close beside him.

“So…” She wastes no time, his Belle. “… tell me.”

He shakes his head with an affectionate smile and reaches beside him to produce a small package. It is wrapped in a silk scarf in the deep shade of blue that she favors, and bound with golden thread. He places it in her lap and murmurs,  _“For you, Love.”_

She holds his eyes for a long moment, then turns her attention to untying the thread and unwrapping her gift. She finds a book which looks to be very old. It’s beautiful, with a rich, soft leather binding and parchment pages… completely blank. No title along the spine or on the cover and no words on any of it’s pages. She looks up at him, confusion evident in her bright blue eyes.

“A journal?”

“No, Sweetheart,” He shakes his head, “a book of stories.”

“But there aren’t any words.” 

“The book is enchanted, Belle.” His voice is soft. “The tales will appear when you, and only you, are ready to read them.”

“What kind of stories?” She has that tilt to her head that he knows so well, the one that blatantly telegraphs that her curiosity has been piqued.

“Mine,” he answers simply.

“Yours?”

“Yes. You asked me once, long ago, if you might know me. This book will grant you access to my memories.’

“Your memories?” She shakes her head, obviously trying to grasp exactly what he wants to tell her with this. “Which memories?”

“All of them. You may discover whatever you wish, Darling. You need only think of what you wish to know, open the book, and your answer will appear on it’s pages in the form of a story.”

She stares at him, then her gaze travels  down to where the leather volume rests on her lap. She runs a hand over the cover, then looks back to him and reaches out to lay that same hand on his arm

“Rumplestiltskin, I… you don’t have to do this. I don’t need this.”

He allows his fingertips to brush along her cheek, traces her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. 

“There’s still much that you don’t know about me, Belle.” He stops for a moment, offers her a tentative smile. “While I don’t want to take all of the mystery out of our relationship, I… I believe you should know the truth of me before you decide to come home.” His eyes lock onto hers. “You asked for courage, Love, and make no mistake, this takes all that I possess.”

She has no idea what to say, so she says nothing, merely brings a hand up to the side of his face, brushing his hair back before tracing the line of his jaw. He catches it in one of his and brings it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“I think I’ll leave you to your reading for a day or two, Belle.” He places her hand back on the cover of the book and covers it with his own. “You’ll find me when you’re ready, yes?”

“Yes.” She nods her head, eyes perhaps a bit too bright.

He retrieves his cane and stands up, making his way to the door. He turns back to her.

“Belle?” She looks up from the book in her hands. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And with that, he slips out into the snowy night, closing the door softly behind him.

====================

Rumplestiltskin hears nothing for two days. His mood darkens with each passing hour, convinced that she wants nothing more to do with him now that she truly understands the monster that he is. He neither eats nor sleeps. He cannot even quiet himself enough to spin, his leg screaming from the near constant pacing. Finally, on the morning of the 23rd, she comes into his pawnshop to find him with one of the few customers brave enough to endure him in his present state. He would have gladly thrown the woman out, but Belle simply tosses off a quick wave before he can so much as open his mouth to speak. She tells him that she is busy that evening with holiday preparations, but asks him to come to her apartment on Christmas Eve…  _“Six o’clock, Rumplestiltskin. Don’t be late.”_  … and leaves him with a soft smile. 

It is more than he expected but not nearly enough. Somehow the intervening hours pass without incident… he even manages to sit at his spinning wheel that night rather then pacing up and down in his bedroom… and he finds himself at her door. Now that the time has come, he is surprisingly calm. 

When Belle opens the door, he finds her in the dress of golden lace that she wore on their first date here in Storybrooke. She greets him with a radiant smile and reaches out to take his hand and tug him inside. The whole of the tiny apartment is alight with the thick pillar candles covering every available surface, countertops and tables, window ledges… and the moving boxes that are stacked throughout the space. 

“May I… “ His voice deserts him for a moment and he is forced to start again. “May I ask what you’ve read?” 

“Of course. I would have told you even if you hadn’t. I read about what happened to your family,” she begins, and immediately sees the question in his eyes. “Yes, all of it. I know about Milah and her pirate.”

He studies her for long moments, brow furrowed and a puzzled frown tugging his lips down. “And yet, you’re packed.” It’s not quite a question.

Belle squeezes his hand, still grasped tight in her own.

“I’m not certain you completely understand just what gift you gave me when you offered your memories, Rumplestiltskin. Your book showed me the story, yes, but the reading of it allowed me to truly experience the memory… to feel it as you did.”  His eyebrows rise a little at this, but he says nothing. “Did you know it would work that way?”

“I suspected,” he allows, “but I wasn’t sure it would work.”

She nods. “I know more than enough of you to know that I have nothing to fear from you ever.”

“Never, Belle!”

She offers him a soft smile and lowers her gaze. He waits for her to gather her thoughts.

“I understand a great deal about your…” she pauses for a moment, considers, “… rivalry with Regina now. I can see why she wanted to hurt you, why she thought I might be useful.” He lowers his head with a pained sigh. “All actions have unintended consequences, both good and bad.” She says it gently, a hand at his shoulder. 

“What she did  to you, Belle…” He chokes the words out in a pained whisper, head bowed over their hands,  “… it’s my fault.”

“No.” She brings the hand from his shoulder up under his chin, encourages him to meet her eyes. “What she became may be your responsibility, but what she did to me is not your fault. She made her own choices, just as you did.” He offers her a slight nod, but looks away nonetheless. 

She lowers her eyes for a moment, then looks up to catch his with a shy smile.

“And I read… our story.’

He leans just a fraction closer to her. “If the reading of it did as you say,” he whispers, “then you have me at a disadvantage.”

Blue eyes sparkle with her response. “I would gladly offer you the same if your magic can conjure it.”

He tilts his head and regards her with a mischievous glint in his eye. When he speaks, his voice carries an echo of the imp she fell in love with. “I just might take you up on that, Dearie.”

She can’t stop the laugh that escapes her, but strives for a serious note when she responds. “I insist that you do.”

They grin at one  another before his expression becomes grave again.

“Belle, with all that you’ve seen, all that you know…”  He shakes his head, the question left unspoken.

“I love you.” she says simply.

“How?” And he is truly at a loss. Hadn’t some part of him expected that she would do anything to get away once she knew the truth of him? “You’ve seen what I’ve done, Belle. I  _am_  a monster.”

She offers him a smile that is pure Belle and then sweeps her arm about the room. 

“And yet I’m packed.”

“So you are.” He can do little more than gaze at her, certain he will never understand how he managed to win the devotion of such a perfect creature.

She looks around at the boxes littering the room. “We can leave these here until after the holiday.”

“I’ll have Dove fetch them after Christmas.”

She drops his hand and moves to take up a present from under her little tree. 

The gift is a familiar size and shape, wrapped in shiny gold paper and tied with a sheer ribbon of midnight blue. His lovely little Belle makes her way back to him and places it in his hand. He knows what he will find when he unties the bow and pulls back the wrapping paper. 

“Don’t you wish to keep it, Sweetheart?”

She shakes her head. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to let me know you, and you’ve offered yourself to me, literally as an open book. You’ve given me what I need, Rumple. You’ve given me your trust and allowed me to understand you in ways I never could have before, and it’s only allowed me to love you more.” She grins. “But I don’t see any need to peel back all of the layers at once. I’m happy to discover more of you in your own time, to learn what you wish me to know. Maybe you’ll read me a story every now and then?”

He looks at her with the same wonder she saw in his eyes when she told him she wanted to come home and slowly shakes his head.

“Would you like to hear one now?”

She nods, beaming at him. “Yes, please.”

He holds the package out to her and she takes it, leaving him a free hand to place at the small of her back as he leads her to the sofa. He settles in and unwraps the book as she snuggles up close to him, then opens it to a spot near the middle and begins to read to his love by candlelight.

_“Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep…”_


End file.
